


bikini porn

by makeashadow_ao3



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cunning Linguist, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Future AU, Just gals being pals, No Beta, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, slightly canon compliant, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeashadow_ao3/pseuds/makeashadow_ao3
Summary: This is the first monster-free, no drama day they’ve had in a while and they’ve all earned it. Sure, it’d be nice to be at the falls their town is named for but baby steps. Their campus lake will do just fine.But something, well, someone is missing.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman (Referenced), Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Josie Saltzman & Lizzie Saltzman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	bikini porn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hopemikaelsn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopemikaelsn/gifts).



> title comes from tove lo's song, so you already know
> 
> peep the tags before you get big mad

Her hand glides down her sister’s arm, sunscreen casting a white glaze on the skin before turning translucent. Lizzie has a pinkish tint to her complexion while Josie has olive hues. The former burns easily while the other tans, but they both abide by their mother’s sage advice to always always _always_ wear sunscreen. God forbid they end up ageless heretics with leather skin. 

Josie switches to lathering the other arm and casts her gaze outwards. 

The lake teems with Salvatore students - lower and upper schools alike. Off the shore several yards away, Kaleb instructs Pedro and his group witch friends through a series of swim techniques, their arms donning floaties. He himself is wrapped in an inflatable tube resembling a giraffe, his long locs braided in an intricate plait to keep them away from the water. Not far from them, MG sputters and tries to keep his head above water as a frantic younger student weighs him down during a lesson on the back stroke.

The blonde siphon goes on about some Mystic Falls High jock she had the misfortune of bumping into while in town. Her tone is colored with disdain, words buzzing like the cicadas in the midday heat. Numbing, harmless, lulling Josie into a sense of ease.

Under the brim of her straw hat, she feels content. This is the first monster-free, no drama day they’ve had in a while and they’ve all earned it. Sure, it’d be nice to be at the falls their town is named for but baby steps. Their campus lake will do just fine. 

But something, well, someone is missing. 

A shiver rolls up her spine, the kind signaling the approach of someone like her. A witch. She glances off towards the treeline and she spots the newcomer. She sees _her_. 

The famed tribrid crosses her arms and leans her shoulder on a nearby elm. A soft smile tugs at the corner of her lips. She’s in a maroon shirt and jeans, a little overdressed for the festivities. After she graduated, the Mikaelson left Virginia. Said she was going to spend some time in New Orleans with her aunts, but a year later she made her way back to the school.

The smile falls as Hope makes to turn away, and despite her sister’s protests, Josie is on her feet, snatching up her bag, and scrambling up the bank. 

She calls after Hope, who instinctively spins at hearing her name. She skids to a halt, a good yard between the two of them. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna join us.”

“Just wanted to check to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

Josie knows that wistful look. In Caroline’s absence, the Mikaelson witch has been elevated to interim headmistress status. Not unlike her position when she was still a student. It’s unfair. 

Sure, the Original hybrid's money helped fund the school in its early days, and yes, it is still weird how Alaric leans emotionally and pragmatically on the teenage witch, but Hope takes a lot on her shoulders, too. Instead of having fun at the lake or at secret parties at the old mill, she holes herself up in the library pouring over text like the world depends on it. Josie thinks Hope wholeheartedly believes it does. 

A thin arm dives into the tote bag and pulls out a lump of material. “I brought an extra bathing suit. Just in case.”

Hands go up in a rebuff. “Oh, I dunno. That’s probably not my size-”

“It is. I checked.” Josie has just as much access to student records as Hope does, only the tribrid isn’t checking to see what size a former student ordered their uniforms in. 

Cool blue eyes rove over Josie’s form. Her bikini is sunflower yellow, the top snug at her chest and high waisted bottoms skimming her navel. Brunette hair hangs past her shoulders under her hat. She’d planned to relax, read, and strum on her ukulele while the others swam. 

Hope purses her mouth and takes the offering. “Thanks.”

Before shame can flood her at her boldness, Josie turns and flounces back to the deck to her sister’s curious gaze. 

“She’s not going to spoil our Lake Day with her bad attitude, is she? Because I worked way too hard convincing Dad to-”

“She’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure she could use a minute to relax, same as the rest of us.”

Lizzie lays back, her towel bundled under her neck. “Whatever. I’m going to try to tan. Wake me when it’s time for a second coat of sunscreen.” 

When her twin finally falls silent, Josie takes the time to lay out her essentials. Sunglasses, a book on the original covens of witches hoping to find something about the Gemini, her towel which she lays out to protect her from splinters on the dock, and her ukulele. 

She sneaks a look back at the woodline and swallows. Hope stands at the spot where she left her, only now instead of her day clothes she dons a one piece bathing suit the color of cornflower. In the gleam of the sunlight, her eyes pop as she slowly heads to the shore.

Josie gains satisfaction that the swimsuit fits. A size smaller and Hope would be stuffed to the brim. While Hope may have a bold and brash personality, wardrobe-wise, she tends to go for more modest outfits. The tribid’s body is a lot more curvaceous than the twins. 

Jealousy and latent attraction swirl in her gut. 

Her descent to the water isn’t slow. In what seems like an urge to submerge her body where no one can ogle as well as not bring attention to her overall presence, she slips into the water and quickly sinks below the surface. She remains under for sometime then resurfaces several yards out. Few kids play in the middle of the lake, but that’s where Hope swims to. 

There, she’s a buoy to Josie’s attention and nothing else. Chocolate eyes haven’t left her form since she first caught sight of her in that swimsuit. Russet hair lazes about her chest, a red lilypad to the sun-kissed creature. Water crests off her cleavage as she bobs.

Josie cuts her eyes away. The siphon’s long-suffering crush is no longer a secret, and enough time and interaction has proven that those feelings might have been reciprocated. In another life, more than likely. A life where her rash panic hadn’t resulted in the destruction of the only piece of artwork Hope had left of her father, a time when her fear of being found out hadn’t drove a wedge between her crush and her sister. A life when a lot of things had gone differently. 

If Lizzie caught her staring…

Propping against a post, she tips the brim of her hat against the sun and tucks into her book. Ms. Tig lent it to her by way of the twins’ Aunt Bonnie, so she pushes aside her warring emotions and focuses on the words before her. 

The text isn’t comprehensive, much of its information focusing on the rituals of the New Orleans covens. There are passing mentions of the Bennetts who tend to show up at important cruxes in time, but nothing about the Gemini. No merge or prison world. Not even a footnote.

Groaning, she snaps the book shut and shoves it back in her bag. When her eyes next lift to the water, Hope is nowhere in sight. She twists and finds her dipping into a changing tent. 

She jumps to her feet. 

The thick, beige canvas billows in the wind but is sturdy enough to not fly open and reveal its occupant. Lizzie had them ordered for the aesthetic. Said they match the ones they used to have on beaches in the 1960s, close to a century ago. 

“Hope?” Josie presses her hand to the canvas. “I forgot to bring an extra towel, but you can use mine.” 

The flap lifts and Hope’s grin greets her with a thankful expression. 

Without thinking, she steps inside. 

It’s cozy, shade from the summer heat and humidity. A coat rack hooks a pair of jeans and a shirt discreetly hiding a bra in one corner and a small stool beside it. Hope stands between them both as she wrings water out of her long hair onto the grass beneath them. “Thanks. Don’t tell Lizzie I said it, but I like Lake Day. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” she nods, hands twisting her beach towel in a tight spiral. “Kids from the lower school really seem to enjoy it. As long as everyone behaves, we might be able to convince our Dad to hold one every quarter. Even after we...”

The twins are on the cusp of their own graduation from the magical academy. The merge is still a dark cloud their heads, but in the between time Lizzie plans to travel and Josie- Well, she hasn’t decided what she wants to do exactly. The school is her home, the only world she’s ever known. 

“I’ll put in a good word.”

She says it in jest and usually Josie would prick at the reminder she has an _in_ with the headmaster that his own daughters lack. But she’s so close and the temperature is so warm. 

“Are you leaving already? You’re welcome to sit and sun with me and Lizzie.”

“Oh,” her wry smirk remains in place. “I couldn’t encroach on your sister’s self-care afternoon. I half expected her to have the lake drained when I showed up.”

While Lizzie and Hope had garnered a close relationship once upon a time, that changed when Hope left. Her twin felt betrayed, abandoned, and in her hurt reverted back to her passive aggressive, frenemy ways. Hope seemed to take the rebuff in stride. It wasn’t the first time her return had gone unappreciated. 

“She’ll behave,” Josie argues. “I promise.”

Pondering the invitation, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “I should probably get back to the library. I am the only person who can stop the Mali-pocalypse, but I’d rather not die to do it. Again.”

The mud elephant in the room. No one openly talks about Malivore anymore, the very real boogeyman they have to contend with. No one talks about _Landon._

Hope holds her hand out for the towel, and Josie steps in. They both hold onto the fabric when the siphon takes another step and melds her lips to Hope’s. They’re plush, petals that have been her personal siren call for ages. She pulls back, the sudden compulsion taking her by surprise. 

Icy eyes stare back at her, mouth agape. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Her hand travels to her face, lips tingling. “I-”

Shock bleeds to something like curiosity. Hope perches on the balls of her feet and presses her mouth to Josie’s. Tentative, experimental, requited. 

Being the one with a more experienced dating history, it’s instinct that drives the taller girl to shift her body closer until they are pressed together. The swimsuit is wet and skin damp from her swim, but they remain in their embrace, feeling each other out. Josie’s arms snake around Hope’s waist grazing the small of her back where a patch of skin peeks through a cutout in the material. The towel drops between them as Hope rests her hands on Josie’s shoulders. 

Hope breaks the kiss, pulls back a little. Their breaths wash over the other’s face. She sinks to her original height. “Do you mind if I-”

She doesn’t know what she’s agreeing to, but Josie nods and retreats a few steps. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, a second taste of the girl on her. 

Flushed, Hope turns her back and pulls at a wide strap of the swimsuit. There are indents on her skin and Josie worries she got the size wrong after all. Dazed, she approaches her. Her fingers find the divots between shoulder and neck. Hope shivers under her touch but doesn’t stop the removal of the offending fabric. The suit loosens from her midsection, bunched around her stomach. From her vantage point, Josie can’t help getting an overhead glimpse of her breasts. 

Her lower belly tightens. 

She pulls her hand away and lets Hope undress unencumbered. Her skin is slightly pale in the places the suit hid from the sun. Her back and the slope of her round ass. She reaches for her clothes, but a hand on her forearm stops her. Hope slowly turns around, naked, but not a trace of vulnerability in her expression. She’s a wolf, of course she’s not embarrassed by or shy about her own nudity. Only cautious of what’s to follow. 

Josie closes the space between them again, their lips meeting and bodies conforming. The tribrid is so short, her soft breasts press against Josie’s quivering stomach. Their kissing becomes passionate, tongues playfully swiping, as hands wander the bare expanse of their bodies. The weight and fullness of heavy breasts in her hands, a patch of dark hair covering the lycan-witch’s modesty. 

She peppers open-mouth kisses along her jaw and down her neck, which Hope exposes in her pleasure. Josie’s hand slides down her waist, over her hip, and rests it there. She squeezes, her grip light and teasing. A hand covers hers and guides it to the apex of thick thighs. 

Expert fingers are quick to explore unknown territory. It’s warm where legs meet as she ventures farther. They find their destination, the folds of her cunt slick and wanting. Together, their hands move in unison at the older girl’s pace. Hope is quick to relinquish control, though, deferring to the siphon’s expertise. 

Josie works her over, while the Mikaelson lets her own hands roam. A palm presses to the small of the thinner girl’s back to keep their pelvises as close as possible, and the other roves over the silky bikini. Nipples pebble under the fabric, so she ghosts her fingers over them. Then, she takes a small breast in her mouth. Her tongue moves on the material, mouth working like a suction. 

As not to lose concentration, fingers move faster sliding back and forth. Hope’s exhales comes out in low, measured moans. Unable to resist anymore, Josie sinks to the ground, knees finding the bunched up towel. She glances up, for permission, hat tipping off the crown of her head. Hope is so blissed out she breathlessly nods. 

Hand still in determined motion, Josie pecks lightly at her inner thigh. Her nose nudges the bud hidden under her hair. Hope jolts. Hips gyrate against the hand, which Josie then replaces with her face. 

She licks tentatively, tastes the grit of freshwater, a little salty sweat, and something she can only label as the delicious flavor of _hope_. She goes in for another taste, and the girl shudder above her. Josie hooks a leg over her shoulder, granting herself more access. She laps and laps at her cunt, hair tickling her nose, and the seat of her own swimsuit grows moist. 

The Tribrid is close, she can tell. It’s why she fell to her knees. She wants to taste her as she comes. 

Hands fall on the top of Josie’s head. She’s losing her balance and herself. Josie’s lips latch around her, her tongue dipping into her shallowly. A gasp chokes her when she climaxes, her body bowing over the girl beneath her. Josie’s arms steady the weight of the trembling girl while still feasting on her pussy. She eases some of the pressure, gently riding her through a swift second orgasm.

When her heart rate returns to normal, Hope dismounts and all but stumbles back on the stool. Her legs haven’t quite regained their strength, but Josie is nothing if not a caregiver. She wipes the excess of Hope from the corners of her mouth with the pad of her thumb then moves forward and takes the clothes in her hands. Piece by piece, she hands over the articles and lets Hope take her time getting dressed. 

Hope stands at last to shimmy into her tight jeans then raises her eyes to her.

“I should get back to the library.”

Josie wordlessly nods and allows her to move to the exit. The flap opens, bright sunlight streaming in. Hope tilts her head to one side then glances over her shoulder. “Remind me to return the favor.”

“Of course.” Josie blushes. 

Lizzie hasn’t moved from her spot except to turn onto her stomach. As her sister returns, she pops open one accusing blue eye then closes it. She huffs. “Let me guess. If the tent's a-rockin, don’t come a-knocking?” 


End file.
